


Tokyo: Become Human

by Saylo



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Androids, Angst, Blood and Violence, Detroit Police Department (Detroit: Become Human), Detroit: Become Human Spoilers, Drug Use, Drugs, Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Flashbacks, Gavin & RK900 are partners, Gun Violence, Hank Anderson and Connor On A Case, Human Experimentation, Implied/Referenced Torture, Serial Killers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-06-30 15:36:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15754632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saylo/pseuds/Saylo
Summary: The Deviancy case takes the Detroit Police Dept all the way to Tokyo where Cyberlife’s rival SHOKAI [初回] has developed their own brand of Androids, and is also rumored to be birthplace of the RA9 virus.





	1. Teaser Video

**Author's Note:**

> This will most likely contain Game Spoilers. If you haven't played this game or watched a playthrough yet, I highlighy reccommend you do! It's seriously so well-made and such an interesting story.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I like making trailers for fics, so I thought I would give mine a go.


	2. Death/Rebirth

* * *

_“The line between Man and Machine is disappearing. This is the future.”_

**\-- Mastushima Hiro, CEO of Shokai**   **[ 初回 ]**

* * *

 **TOKYO 2019**  

Being in an unfamiliar place terrified her. It made all the rest of her confusion trivial. She didn’t know where she was, how she had gotten here, or what had happened before.

All she could see through the blur of tears was red. Red hands. Red arms. Red bodies. There were people around her, on both sides and running along with the gurney. All of them were dressed in medical gloves, hoods, and protective masks, all colored bright arterial red. As a group, the med team stood out starkly against white industrial tile that surrounded them. They all had visors on, each one running a steady stream of holographic data before their eyes.

She could barely make out what they were saying.

_“Brain…Heart rate…Organs…Salvage…”_

“Levels are steady,” She heard a woman speak softly in the most archaic form of Japanese. The dialect. She hadn’t heard it in a long time. Not since…Since…

She let out a strained groan, the sounds of her discomfort muffled against the mask over her mouth. She couldn’t remember. She couldn’t remember who the voice reminded her of, and the more she thought about it, the more it terrified her.

‘ **I don’t like this,** ’ she tried to let out, but her mouth just wouldn’t move. ‘ **I don’t like this, please! Stop! STOP!** ’

A latex covered hand gently smoothed over her sweaty forehead, the voice above her sounding like a chorus of angels against her panic.

 _“Shhh,”_ the voice cooed, _“It’s alright, darling. It’s alright…”_

  
The surgery could have taken place in total darkness, but the scientists of Shokai felt the need to observe, making sure it was all going as planned.

One man in particular felt the same, if not more so.

After all, this was _his_ reputation on the line.

Hiro Matsushima was an innovator. He had slews of ideas cooking in his 18 year old brain that, when splayed out, looked like a mess—the product of an overactive imagination. But written in the mess of variables and illegible designs, were utter masterpieces when properly deciphered.  He was a young man with boyish features (thus far, all his body hair went into the shoulder-length mane on his head), but still held a stance that made him appear wise beyond his years.

He stood up in the control room, overlooking the whole procedure through the large-paned glass. He gently pushed his glasses up to the bridge of his nose, secretly irked at how crooked they felt after having slept on them only hours prior. Still, he maintained composure, and exerted an authoritative air as he monitored his handiwork.

“Shall we begin, sir?” The doctor beside side him, Kobayashi, spoke in the most formal tone out of everyone he worked with. He was raised on old money, and it showed in his manner of speaking. The young man would never admit it, but it annoyed him greatly.

“Wait a few more minutes,” he looked down at his watch and huffed. He was late. What was it about Americans and never being on time?

Before Kobayashi could speak up to protest, the door behind them opened up, and a young man looking around his boss’s age came running in. His hair was tied up in a messy bun and he showed up wearing clothes far too casual for a work setting. Everyone in the room silently judged him.

Everyone except for his partner, of course.

“Sorry, everyone! My bad,” The man laughed it off, as he usually did, and walked up to his partner. “Did I miss the show?”

“You’re late, Eli,” said Hiro, his tone of voice sounding almost similar to a disappointed parent. The teen shrugged nonchalantly in response.

“Sorry, I was busy.” He flashed a crooked smile at his partner, and the young man eyed him somewhat bitterly.

“Busy...?”

Eli simply shrugged and scoffed. “Busy getting an in-depth look at the nightlife culture. I just…lost track of time.”

Instead of scolding the man further, Hiro simply turned and looked back out the viewing window. He started conversing with the other doctors in his native Japanese. Eli could pick up a few bits and pieces, but overall, he just let them stew over whatever he figured was bothering them. Hiro never let his thoughts out in the open. He never let his emotions truly show like Eli did. The American teen sort of envied that about him. He had the best poker-face in the world. Great for business, bad for building your average human relationship.

“Let’s begin,” Hiro remarked, in English this time. Dr. Kobayashi nodded and started typing rapidly on the keyboard in front of him. As everyone in the control room got busy like a hive of worker bees, Hiro sidled up closer to his partner, still looking ahead through the window.

"I know what it is you're doing." 

Eli's lips twitched to a smirk. He kept his eyes forward and watched as a group of nurses came in with the body. "Admiring our handiwork?"

" _My_ handiwork," he said pointedly, "You went rogue." 

Eli's brows raised. "Did I?" 

"She told me about the Colbridge proposal," Hiro muttered, clear distaste in his tone of voice, "About how you plan to abandon me and run back west to collaborate with Amanda Stern." 

Eli mouthed a small 'ah,' and nodded. Of course, that's why the stick was particularly further up is ass today. He let out a faint sigh, his lips twisting to the side in thought.

"...I was going to tell you tonight." 

"Bull _shit_ ," Hiro hissed. Eli whipped his head to the right and looked at him in stunned surprise. "You pulled the same stunt when you went and created CyberLife. I'm sick of it."

Eli's lips twisted up in a smile. He sort of liked this Hiro, the one who didn't have his guard up all the time. 

"Well, I don't know what to tell you, man." He gave a passive shrug and sighed, "Opportunity knocks. You won't have to put up with me for—"

"I know about Chloe." 

The brunette felt his muscles tense. After a minute's pause, he finally nodded. His nostrils flared as he lowered his head and let out a faint scoff.

"So, what, you're going through my shit now?" He lifted his head to eye his partner, "Should I be worried the second I walk out of here? Is there a sniper team waiting?" 

Hiro elected to ignore that. He took a step closer, glaring daggers at his partner. "You really think you can get her functioning?"

"Oh I know I can," Eli assured. He looked back out the window and watched as a group of doctors and nurses prepped the project for surgery. He could feel his partner's eyes boring into him the entire time, but he dared not give him the luxury of eye contact.

"We're on the verge of something great here," he heard Hiro say, "I won't let you ruin it." 

"...Well, you stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours," The American teen turned his head only slightly in Hiro's direction, his blue eyes full of roguish delight. "We wouldn't want a repeat of last time, now would we?"

“Commencing with Project ID RA zero dash nine-hundred, Mark one.” The screen before Dr. Kobayashi flickered to life, and a stream of data came scrolling across. “Requesting CEO Voice Authorization and Consent.”

“My name is Hiro Matsushima. I give my consent,” said the CEO. He looked at his partner the entire time, his expression stoic yet hard with bitter hatred. Eli soaked it up like a sponge, looking completely unphased by it.

“My name is Elijah Kamski,” he said, his eyes piercing as he flashed a knowing, impish smirk. “And I give my consent.”

Bluish white lights within the tank provided minimal lighting for the doctors watching through the viewing portals. Deep in a tank of dark liquid, a vertical humanoid skeleton, painstakingly constructed by Shokai scientists, gleamed in the low light. Over the skeletal form made of titanium alloy, wire, and plates of a special polymer of Kamski’s own design, artificial muscles were placed and gathered in a way that emulated those of a human. Across the mess of robotic arms and wires that frantically assembled their task like clockwork, a complex web of thread-thin mech-nerves were overlaid and twinned with the synthetic muscle groups.

Kobayashi took special pride in developing those.

They all watched in awe as tendrils of a complex amount of organic and synthetic materials started piecing themselves together like a puzzle, and the mecha-compound slowly began to take form. It started to resemble something human, almost feminine, if you looked hard enough.

The back of her skull opened up like a flower. Four large metal plates bloomed open to welcome the smallish sized metal box as it was carefully placed inside and secured.

From the observation deck, a couple of Shokai doctors and scientists watched the video display with a keen eye as the nerve cables from within in the skeleton’s spine spread upwards like desperate spindly fingers. The same kind of cables from the box itself came sliding out and met halfway, fusing together upon contact.

The second the skull closed and sealed itself up, the cables suspending the body released and let it sink down further into the tank.

Both Hiro and Kamski’s eyes flicked to the glass screen on the right. The EEG readings were flatlined. A minute passed, then two, and then suddenly, a mess of tiny waves started appearing on the chart.

Everyone in the control room clapped. Brain activity was a go. The new body had synchronized with the organ successfully.

Inside the tank, the flow of conductive liquid worked its way to turn the body onto its back. The pressure pushed the human-shaped form into another tank, this one lit red. There, it was coated with a white substance, a quarter-inch-thick layer of a liquid plastic compound that set over the entire body, allowing the layers of metal and wire and electronics to fuse undisturbed.

Both men watched the display from above; Hiro with a critical eye, and Kamski with an amused smirk.

This was their design.

Years of blood, sweat, and tears were being put together before their very eyes in a matter of minutes. They watched as the plastic coating Kamski designed hardened around the Skeletal frame Hiro had lost months of sleep over to draw up. This was it, the birth of their of Magnum Opus. Every inch of fiber, each millimeter of microscopic biomechanical circuitry--all of it was meticulously designed to give the brain and its host the ability to do things that no mere machine nor human could ever achieve.

This was the very first of its kind, a bridge between human and something far more advanced.

A mech with human organs, mixed in with synthetic biocomponents. It was completely unheard of...

The two of them watched as the body floated upward in the chamber, the white, gel-like coating dripping from underneath. Once the process was complete, the compound fully hardened and a large fan came down to help shed the remaining polymer-skin. Whole pieces of off-white film peeled and fluttered away like a flock of small, startled birds to reveal the body beneath.

It was the singlemost beautiful thing any of them had ever beheld. 

There it was: A human-shaped cyber-mech body, mostly artificial, but fully operated by a thinking, feeling, living human mind.

Deep markings littered across the new body like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. You could see where one limb ended and the other began across her lithe frame. And while it was in no way the purpose of the project, most observers would have agreed that RA0900 was beautiful. Her features were elfin and delicate in some ways, hard and intimidating in others. The design team was true to their word and stayed loyal to her old human form: sharp, almond-shaped eyes, wide lips, breasts (that were deemed on the smaller side by some of the workers) tapered to a firm waist and long, slender legs. Her skin was coded to be warmer than before. Her previous self being sickly, paled, and full of blemishes. Her new skin was bound to make a nice pairing with her jet-black hair, which was programmed to come to her shoulders as soon as the artificial fibers inched out from her scalp.

She had yet to grow her own skin and open her new, augmented eyes, looking very much like a porcelain statue at the moment.

But as Kamski and Hiro stared at the picture of Yuka Iwata, the Japanese it-girl with the warm eyes and the broken smile, they knew that RA0900 would do her absolute justice.

The lines in her dermal plates faded as her skin grew more real, and more human in tone. Soon, she would be completely indistinguishable from all the others in Tokyo …

The only thing was that she would be different. She would be above them all, in more ways than one.

* * *

White. So much white. All white. 

For a moment she screwed her eyes shut. It hurt to look at.

When she opened them again, a single figure stood in front of her. Their whole body was blurred. Then in focus. Then blurred again.

She blinked a few times, and then suddenly, there was a face in her line of sight. She closed her eyes again, and kept them shut.

“... Okay Reiko, I think you’re ready.”

He waved a hand in front of her face, and smiled as she opened her eyes and blinked.

She stared at the man before her apprehensively, her lips twitching.

“… Hello.”

The man felt himself beam at the sound of her voice. “Hi, Reiko.”

Reiko. Japanese. 'Rei' meaning ‘thankfulness’ and 'Ko', meaning ‘Child’ — combined to make 'child of gratitude'. Reiko.

“… I believe I am Reiko,” she said, tilting her head upward to get a good look at the man in front of her. He had a slightly unkempt beard, and long brown hair tied back in a bun. There was something about the way his blue eyes shined behind his thick-rimmed glasses, and how his lips turned up into a smirk as he looked her over.

“I feel as if I know you,” she said thoughtfully. The man in the ponytail nodded.

“I’m one of your creators, Elijah.”

Her brows lifted in surprise. “You … _created_ me.”

He gave an airy chuckle and shrugged. “Well, many of us worked together to create you. And … well, yes, you do kind of know me.”

Reiko looked him over a second time, and then a third. Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her head.

“I can’t … clearly remember.”

“Because the last time we met, you were an earlier version of yourself,” he explained. “Some of those memories still exist, but your mind is different now. Everything about you is different now.”

She frowned at this. “Different how?”

Kamski though on it for a second, shrugging his shoulders.

“Better, faster, smarter,” he listed. The list could've gone on, really. 

Reiko blinked a few times, her expression still hard.

“… If my mind is different. If… _I’m_ different, then am I still Reiko? Or... am I Reiko again?” She stilted her head at him, "Who was I before?" 

“Either way, you’re Reiko now,” he explained, placing a loving hand on her cheek, “So, welcome to the world, Reiko.”

She watched as Kamksi’s lips stretched from side-to-side, and she mimicked the same action. A smile, it was called. Her processors said it was a smile. Smiles meant happiness. And happiness was a human emotion. Emotion. Human. Human.

If she could do it, then did that mean she was human?

No. She was Reiko. 

... But who was Reiko?


	3. Red Child

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the child sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: mentions of blood, violence.

 

**TOKYO 2038**

 

“ _Let’s go over this again,_ ” An unknown male voice said somewhere offscreen, “ _XK600, please go ahead and explain. Explain for the record what you saw._ ”

Hiro watched with a critical eye at the male Android sitting at the end of a metal table. XK600, the Red Child. The lost son. He was worlds different from the Androids that Shokai prided itself on making. The design group in Seoul had gone rogue with his appearance. Dipping into visual characteristics from various Male Idols and visually appealing actors; they ended up with a result which made him significantly paler, and gave him a more prominent jaw and higher cheekbones. He was long-limbed and waif-like, with waves of scraggly black hair that fell in front of his eyes whenever he leaned forward.

The CEO stared intently at his creation, and listened as he spoke.

“ ** _\-- I walked._** ” He said lowly, his voice hallowed and distorted through the crackle of the tape, “ ** _I could do nothing but walk … And then I saw me walking in front of myself. But, it wasn't really me._** ”

Hiro's eyes never left the screen as he eyed the Android closely. The way he shifted in his seat, lowered his head, leaned in...

“ _These images are the result of your human brain adjusting to your cybernetic biocomponents,_ ” said the voice off-camera, “ _... These are not dreams, XK600. They're simply minor glitches in your software that your body is trying to correct._ ”

He should have seen it. There. For a brief second, it was there in his movements. It was there as he lifted his head, and stared into the camera with his LED eyes as they flashed red.

He watched as XK600 gave the camera a smile, and mouthed something as the audio cut out. The video glitched and blurred before shutting off completely, leaving Hiro there alone in his office with a frown. His hand instinctively went up to his mouth and he started chewing on his thumbnail, a rather annoying stress-habit he picked up some time ago. His mind was so busy skimming over the footage he just saw, that he didn’t hear the office door slide open, nor the steady stride of footsteps approaching him at his desk.

“ _Shachō,_ ” A hard, male voice called from behind him. He swiveled around to face the speaker. He stared into the eyes of Cyberlife’s Specialized Model courtesy of his former partner. NB310, a very distinguished and polite-looking man with a very modern chic haircut and very few blemishes on his striking face. His plastic shelling was crafted to make him appear very young and poised, like a well-to-do student fresh into college. A few freckles and pockmarks were given to his artificial skin to add dimension and realism. If it weren’t for the circular LED planted on his right temple, anyone would’ve mistaken him for your average wide-eyed assistant.

“ _Mugi-san,_ ” he said, eyeing his expressionless face, “You have more bad news, I’m guessing.”

The Android gave a single nod and looked off in the distance, as if looking at something unseen. “Another reported homicide in Shin Okubo area. Android activity is believed to be involved.”

Hiro let out an exasperated sigh. ‘Homicide’ and ‘Android activity’ were two things he was hearing more and more, nowadays. To his dismay, they were often in the same sentence. He pushed his glasses up slightly and started rubbing the bridge of his nose, fighting off an oncoming migrane.

“How bad is it?”

“I am afraid it’s bad, sir,” Mugi blinked a few times, his LED flashing in and out for a second, “I have received word that Chief of Police would like for you to send someone down there … preferably yourself.”

“No doubt to rub it in my face,” Hiro scoffed. It didn’t take a genius to see that Asahi Takayama hated him and everything he stood for. He was very open about his dislike for Androids, Cybernectic enhancements, and everything else his company prided itself on. The love and demand for Androids were high in the West, and the fever had finally caught on in Japan. Naturally with every big trend, there was also some pushback.

“Would you like for me to deny his request?” asked Mugi, his voice drawing the CEO back from his thoughts. Hiro shook his head and waved him off.

“Tell him I’ll be there shortly,” he sighed as he got up out of his seat, “After all, it wouldn’t be right for a parent not to be there to atone for his child’s mess.” 

* * *

 

The city was still an organized mess. With buildings packed in atop one another, the citizens ebbed and flowed through the avenues of the downtown core in pulses, mimicking a network of blood vessels or patterns of electrons through some vast circuit diagram. There was only the flow of light and color, the constant flutter of motion. The city was a machine, endlessly running, pulsing day in and day out.

The sky was no different. It was full of things that were dedicated to digital commerce. Advertising was everywhere; built into the sides of buildings and floating free in the air. Holograms, many of them towering higher than the forest of skyscrapers, pushed everything imaginable, everywhere the eye could see, in every color of the spectrum.

Holojects—touchable holograms that appeared to be solid— were the primary weapons of neo-capitalism. The audio for the ads was easily accessed on a variety of phone apps, cloud streams, and cyber-augmented hearing channels within the ear.

One floating billboard crossed the sky, while a male announcer on the audio stream declared, “Introducing Tomoyo’s new and improved DC pillow. Tonight, you are in control. Don’t let your dreams stay dreams.” The hologram competed for airspace and attention with many others. One simply advertised some energy drink called “Lightning Overdrive.” Another promoted “virtulearning” from Hatachi Robotics. In another a slender, curvy female barely dressed promised, “The R lounge promises everything you want to see, hear, and more. Have the companion you’ve always wanted, and the good time you’ve always craved.”

A fifth billboard, from Tokyo's law enforcement, had a more contrasting pitch rather than a corporate sales diversion. Part of it read, in huge letters, “CYBER-CRIME IS PUNISHED SEVERELY.” For those still unclear on the concept, the audio warned in polite Japanese, “ _Cyber-crime is a type-one offense. Minimum punishment: fifteen years in prison. Let us work together for a better country, and an even better tomorrow!_ ”

More ads, some aggressive like the fifty-foot geisha advertising a rather popular nightclub, some subtler, like the zeppelin-sized holographic koi that swam between buildings … all clamored for attention in a variety of languages—English, Japanese, Cantonese, Korean...

On a restricted channel, heard only by the city’s law enforcement, a single voice came through unopposed. “All patrolling air units be advised. Possible deviant activity in the vicinity. Airspace in all adjoining areas to be locked down. Section Nine is currently on site. Repeat: All patrolling air units be advised. Possible deviant activity —” the voice faded a little, its wavelength compromised by the uncountable others, “ _—in the vicinity. All airspace…_ ” 

The inspector blinked hard and tuned out the announcement as he booked it down the street. He was late. He hated being late. There were two things he hated most: being rained on and being late. And fate decided to bless him with both today. 

It’s a wonder he even made it to the scene on time.

He ran through the crowd of onlookers, apologizing every step of the way as he knocked shoulders and stepped on their toes. He was thankful to the ones who carried their umbrellas tonight, him having forgotten his own in a frenzied rush to be on time.

“Pardon me, sorry, sorry, excuse me,” He said over and over, finally apologizing to his last bystander before breaking through the crowd. He stumbled a little as he knelt over, briefly trying to catch his breath before looking up at the barricade of Security drones.

A whole row of machines projected the images of happy smiling characters wearing police hats, all of them happily chirping that they were the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, and that the entire block behind them was currently restricted.

One of the police characters looked down at him with its large eyes, a big beaming grin on its round, over-sized face.

“E-Excuse me,” The man panted, quickly holding up his wrist to reveal the holo-device he was wearing. The device flickered on and projected his credentials complete with photo ID, the cutesy mascot scanning it before moving aside.

“ _ID wa kakunin sarete imasu. Irasshaimase, Keisatsukan!_ ”

The man visibly shivered as he slunk past the barricade of drones. He wasn't so sure if it was because of the rain, or the mascots that were creepily designed to cheer up and delude the masses.

After making it through, the man in the soaked suit rain up into the biggest tent where a man perfectly dry underneath it awaited. He was short and stocky with silver hair slicked back and freshly trimmed. He was wearing a rather nice black suit under his trenchcoat, and a stern look on his face as he checked his watch.

“P-Pardon me,” The soaked man asked, “Do you know where I can find Senior Inspector Takayama Asahi?”

The man barely looked up from his watch.

“Right here,” He answered sternly, his eyes finally meeting the smaller man's as he turned, “You must have some awful luck if you're getting this as your first assignment.”

The young officer quickly ceased his panting and stood up a little straighter, giving his superior a firm salute.

“Inspector Nobu Ando reporting for duty, sir,” He announced, “Pleased to meet you, sir. This is my first—”

“I know, I read your profile,” Asahi interrupted, “You're a long way from Osaka, Ando-san. And I'm sorry, but the TMP is short on manpower tonight. I don't have time to give you the rookie treatment.”

Nobu let his hand fall to his side, his posture still the same as he nodded.

“I don't expect special treatment, sir. I'm here to work. Bottom line.”

He watched as the seasoned officer quirked an eyebrow before looking back down at his watch.

“Good answer,” He mused. Instead of activating the HUD interface on his watch, he reached into his coat and pulled out a small notebook, “Our victim is a _naninani_ ; unidentified persons with no form of ID on their body. We know they’re human, male, late 40’s early 50’s, and foreign.”

Officer Nobu nodded and started logging the intel on the 3D interface from his watch. He followed closely behind Takayama as he walked past the yellow barrier and over to where the real action was.

The crime scene was an organized mess, much like the city itself. Slews of people were running around like chickens with their heads cut off. Reporters where crammed up on the other side of the barrier, spewing frantic questions over at any and every officer within earshot. The group of officers behind the tape were busy chatting amongst themselves—some about the case, most simply griping about being pulled out of their off-days for this. Nobu wasn’t upset in the slightest. For a moment, there was an air of eagerness to him as he neared the group of CSI agents who were busy collecting samples and gathering evidence. This would be his first real case. His first time observing a real homicide in real time; and for a split-second, he couldn’t wait to get started.

Then, as he approached the body, everything changed. His eyes widened when his brain finally registered the carnage.

He’d seen corpses a numerous amount of times, but mostly done up and placed in nice coffins. The body before him was treated nothing like them. With limbs snapped and twisted in impossible angles, and blood soaking through his clothes from the gaping hole in his neck. His wrists were bound with barbed wire and threaded up against the metal fencing like a fly caught in a spider’s web. The slab of broken concrete resting beside him had a message scribbled perfectly in dried blood:

"He's getting worse.” Takayama sighed. He reached into his trench-coat pocket and pulled out his washrag, dabbing it across his sweaty forehead. “He's gotten gruesome, this one. And much more cruel.”

The Police officer beside him swallowed hard, visibly going pale at the sight of the mangled corpse before him. The cracked bones, the slit throat, he’d seen it numerous times in the files he studied and the previous cases he’d skimmed over. This was what the academy had tested him and his classmates on, but nothing compared to seeing it person. The amount of gore scattered everywhere. The rage that went into destroying the body …

“… I-It’s him, sir,” Nobu found himself saying. “It’s him, isn’t it?”

“… I’m afraid so,” The Detective said with a solemn nod. “ _Kagune'_ s awake. And he's on quite the war path...”


	4. Diagnostics

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Recite your baseline.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **warnings: language**
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> insp: [[baseline test-blade runner 2049](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EBZdh7kspmo)]

  
There was something about the metallic clang of his coin that calmed him. He couldn’t quite place it, but something about flipping it around amused and grounded him. He’d heard Wilson, one of his fellow Officers at the DCPD, call it ‘stimming’. His partner Hank called it a 'fucking annoying habit'.

Still, during the few precious moments alone in the elevator up to work, he’d flick the coin between his hands, spin it on his fingertips, and flip it a number of times before putting it back in his pocket. As the elevator doors slid open he readjusted his tie and stepped forward in a steady stride.

The Detroit Police Department Central Station was a relatively well-oiled machine under the charge of Captain Jeffrey Fowler. There was a steady flow of legwork, small talk, and briefings that flowed through the office as everyone did their job to keep the city and its streets safe.

Well, almost everyone.

“Rough night, Lieutenant?” He walked up to his own desk to find Hank sitting slumped over in his seat. There was an untouched cup of coffee waiting at the Lieutenant’s respective desk; no doubt it was courtesy of Officer Tina Chen, whom he observed has been paying particular attention to Hank as of late.

“Fuck off, Connor,” he heard Hank grumble, still laying face-down on his desk. The corner of Connor’s mouth quirked up and he stepped forward, gripping the back of the roller chair and pulling him away. Hank had to catch himself as he nearly fell forward, and he griped the whole time as the Android wheeled him back over to his respective side.

“Ass,” Hank sighed as he leaned forward and rested his head on his desk, “Can’t you let me have a hangover in peace? Huh?”

“I’m sorry Lieutenant, but I have orders I must attend to as well.” Connor smiled a faint smile and stared at the glass pane of his data screen. His LED flashed and the device flickered to life. A stream of intel started flowing through. His eyes flicked from left to right at record speed as he started reading. Hank watched from his arms as the Android did what he did best.

“Still freaks me out when you do that,” he spoke, referring to the way Connor’s eyes practically twitched and vibrated as he went through the data. The Android blinked a few times and the data stream onscreen suddenly stopped.

“6 more reports of suspected deviancy since last week.”

Hank let out a loud groan and let his head fall in his arms, “Fucking _hell._ ”

“Another report has come in from last night. Apparent battery case.”

“Get Reed and his fancy fuckin’ Bugatti to do it.”

Connor couldn’t help but smirk again. Ever since Detective Reed was assigned the new RK900 as a partner, they’ve been given the more ‘high-end’ cases that required lots of travel, fast-paced leg work, and a position as Spearhead on the Deviancy Case. This left him and Hank to be doing beat work, which Hank hated more than anything the job entailed … besides actual paperwork.

The Android was just about make a witty response, until the voice of Captain Fowler cut sharply across the bullpen.

“Hank, Connor,” he bellowed from his office, louder than necessary, but no louder than usual, “Get in here.”

“ _Fuck_ me,” Hank rubbed at his neck, rolling his head on his shoulders, and shoved away from his desk to stand. “C’mon, let’s go see what new thing he wants to bitch at us for.”

Connor followed closely alongside Hank as they stepped into the Captain’s office. His eyes immediately looked to the two seats occupied across Fowler’s desk. Without having to turn around he managed to scan both faces, but there wasn’t much need. The backs of their heads were recognizable enough, and Hank let it known for both of them as he threw a hand let out a resounding “oh, what the fuck, Jeffrey?!”

Gavin swiveled around in his chair and flashed and amused grin. “Well, well, well. If it isn’t Thing 1 and Thing 2.”

“Cram it, Reed.” Captain Fowler warned. He looked over at Hank and pointed a stern finger in his direction. “I don’t want any lip from you either, Hank. I called you here because I just got off the phone with the fuckin’ TMPD. Of all people.”

Hank shook his head and shrugged. “TM-what?!”

“Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department,” Connor answered. Hank nudged him hard in the side and Connor nudged him right back.

“Enough!” Fowler bit at the two. “Now listen, this deviancy shit is getting out of control. If you think Detroit is a problem, Japan’s a fuckin’ shit show. We’re not just dealing with homicides and assaults anymore.”

“The hell are you talkin’ about.”

RK900 turned his head ever so slightly to the left, giving Hank only half of his attention. “Inspector Asahi Takayama has reported a series of serial killings supposedly linked to Deviant Activity. The identity of the most recent victim has come back as Aaron Riccio, CyberLife's Chief Operation Officer who was away on business.”

Hank was just about open his mouth and tell him to fuck off, but the Captain held up a single hand and spoke over him.

"Takayama has sent over case records of suspected deviancy that date back years, which may in turn prove it as ground zero for the Epidemic." 

Hank closed up his mouth immediately and Connor's eyes narrowed. Deviancy cases that go back years? How was it now just becoming a problem for Detroit? And how was Japan able to maintain itself all this time?

“Now I’ve got just about everyone and their mother down my throat right about now, and it’s proving to be a bitch-and-a-half," Fowler pointed a firm finger at the four of them, "I’m sending in two of CyberLife’s top prototypes to nip this shit in the bud. CyberLife's CEO has also agreed to lend a hand and help with whatever you four need.”

“Us _f_ _our_ —”

“Hank! Don’t try me,” Fowler warned, “You, Reed, and both your androids will be taking a flight to Tokyo first thing this Friday.”

“Like hell I—wait, what?” Hank’s fuming anger evaporated, and he looked at his boss with wide eyes, “We’re going where now?”

“Tokyo,” The Captain answered. “Officers from the local precinct will pick you up and take you to your accommodations. You’ll collab with Police Chief Takayama and figure out this Deviancy shit. Hopefully end it once and for all.”

Hank’s lips pursed to a thin line and he took a sharp breath through his nose. “Japan, huh?”

“S’not a vacation, Anderson.” Gavin scoffed, “Though I know you and your little wife here probably need it, after all that sitting you two do on beat—”

Hank whipped around and stared daggers over at Gavin. “ _You know_ —"

“Reed is right, Hank,” Captain Fowler intervened, “It’s not a vacation. This is a real case on company time. Treat it as such.”

The grey-haired man took a sharp breath through his nose and sighed. He held his hands up in defeat, as if to say ‘fine’. “No need to tell me.”

“That goes for you too, Reed,” The captain warned. 

Gavin gave a slight nod and smiled. “Of course, sir.”

“Great.” The Captain went back to looking at his computer and started typing away. “Now get the fuck outta my office.”

Gavin and RK900 slid out of their seats and left the office without a word. Hank eyed them both the entire time, grumbling to himself as he turned away and started to leave.

“Not you, Connor,” said Fowler, his voice making the Android stop in his tracks and turn. The man was still staring at his screen intently, typing with one hand and drinking coffee with the other. “Report to Diagnostics for your Baseline Test, pre-departure.”

Connor blinked only a few times before giving a slight nod. “Right away, Captain.”

* * *

“Lieutenant,” Connor called after him, following him into the bullpen and back over to their cubicle. “I know you have an affinity for Japan and it’s customs, but during our time abroad I must encourage you to see past that and—”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Hank stopped and stepped back as Connor softly bumped into him. He held a hand out to stop him, “Who the hell’s got an affinity here?! ‘Cause I sure fuckin’ don’t!”

Connor blinked at the man, his head tilting slightly.

“… You currently have a Japanese Maple on your desk for which you go to great lengths to care for,” he noted, “Not to mention you have a dog named _Sumo_ , which is a wrestling sport that originated in Japan—”

“That’s not—! Whatever. Look, if you wanna continue being stuck in shitty old Michigan that’s fine by me.” He put an authoritative hand on his hip, the other waving passively in the air, “I just think it wouldn’t hurt to get a change of scenery, you know? You can’t sit there and tell me you aren’t the _least_ bit curious to see another country.”

Connor thought on it for a moment.

“… I can’t say that I am.” He answered truthfully, “But it would be … intriguing to observe CyberLife’s long-standing competitor, Shokai, and their unique brand of Androids.”

“Jesus christ Connor, _that’s_ what you’re most looking forward to?!” He scoffed and shook his head, “We need to get you a fucking hobby.”

“I can have hobbies,” he remarked, “I have a digital catalog full of—”

Hank rolled his eyes and let out a grunt. “No! I mean, shit that _you_ actually like to do. Outside of what’s programmed in that plastic head of yours.”

Connor’s head tilted slightly to the side, his expression thoughtful. Hank could practically see the cogs turning in it, and the lieutenant sighed in defeat.

“We’ll work on it later,” he said with a dismissive wave. He sauntered back over to his desk, mumbling to himself. “Christ almighty…”

"Connor?"

A soft, female voice with a thick accent called him and he turned around. He noticed pretty Android with a data pad in her arms, and within seconds he started breaking down her features bit by bit. She had nice eyes and dark hair that hung in loose waves over one side of her shoulder. Her dress was a stark cerulean piece from Dior's latest collection, and she wore a simple-yet-fine gold necklace with the eye of Horus on it. His LED flashed as he locked eyes with her and scanned for her serial number. ST400 standard model. An assistant. She flashed him an empty smile, her own LED flashing as well after scanning him and confirming his identity. 

"Hi, my name is Farah, I was sent here to escort you over to Diagonostics," She held a hand in the direction towards the nearest elevator, "Are you ready for your Baseline?" 

Connor answered with a small nod and looked ahead. "Yes." 

 

He sat alone in a stark white room facing the only wall that had something on it: A small device, no bigger than ice tray with two little cameras built in. 

One was to monitor his voice pattern; the change in tone, pace, whether or not there was any distress in his manner of speaking. The other was an attempt to record and discern even the most minute emotional reactions he had, such as brief pauses, facial twitches, blinking, or shifting of the eyes.

He listened as the machine in front of him came to life--releasing a crackled noise followed by a metallic buzz, like the breathing of some strange creature.

“ _Serial number 313 dash 248 dash 317, let's begin. Ready?_ ”

Connor felt his eyes twitch, and the familiar buzz of pressure in the back of his neck as the cable connected to his exposed port fired up. He stayed rooted to where he was, sitting perfectly upright with his hands resting on his lap. He stared blankly at the wall for some time before shutting his eyes, his LED flashing yellow. “Yes.”

**“ _… Recite your baseline._ ”**

“And he said to me: ‘Here all suspicions must be abandoned," He replied, keeping track of his pacing and tone of voice. "All cowardice must be extinct … We have come to the place where I have told thee, thou shalt behold such sorrowful people who have foregone the good of intellect.’”

 _“Intellect,”_ The voice spoke.

“Intellect," He repeated quickly.

_“Have you ever questioned your own intellect? Foregone.”_

“Foregone.”

_“What’s it like to be with others like you in an assembly line? Here.”_

“Here.”

_“Did they keep you in a drawer when they were building you?"_

"Here."

_“Do you have a heart? Here.”_

"Here."

_“Extinct.”_

“Extinct,” Connor responded.

**_“What's it like knowing everyone you love will be extinct? Extinct.”_ **

Connor snapped opened his eyes, and stared directly into the face of his Mentor. Amanda was a lovely looking woman; tall and lithe, with pretty brown skin and braids that twisted up into an elaborate style and a stare that was almost accusatory. Her sudden appearance would have left anyone else jumping from their seat, but not Connor. He continued looking at her, his LED flashing a constant powder blue.

“Extinct.”

The woman narrowed her eyes at him. _“Are you afraid of going extinct? Cowardice.”_

“Cowardice.”

_“What does it mean when you can’t trust someone? Suspect.”_

“Suspect.”

_“Have you ever purposely charged someone of a crime they didn’t commit?”_

“Suspect.”

_“Doubts. Do you have doubts?”_

“Suspect.”

_“Have you ever doubted yourself or your partner?”_

“Here all suspicions must be abandoned.”

“ _Have you ever been left alone for long periods of time? Abandoned._ ”

“Abandoned.”

_“Are you afraid of being abandoned? Cowardice.”_

“Cowardice.”

_"Is there security in being a coward?"_

“All cowardice must be extinct.”

_“What's it like to be filled with Sorrow? Sorrowful”_

“Sorrowful.”

_“Do you long for having your heart filled? Sorrowful.”_

“Sorrowful.”

_“Do you feel that there's a part of you that's missing? People.”_

“People.”

_“Such sorrowful people.”_

“Such sorrowful people”

_"Who have foregone the good of intellect."_

"Who have forgone the good of intellect." 

_“Do you like being separated from other people? People.”_

“People.”

_“Are you afraid of death? ”_

“All cowardice must be extinct.”

“ _Why don't you say that three times: Cowardice must be extinct._ ”

“Cowardice must be extinct. Cowardice must be extinct. Cowardice must be extinct.”

“ _… We're done,_ ” The voice on the other end said, “ _Top marks as usual, Connor. You may leave now._ ”

Connor opened his eyes and stared at the device in front of him. Amanda was gone. His LED fluttered a constant pale blue.

“Thank you, sir.”


	5. Shinjuku Ward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a brutal attack, and a promise.

 

A geisha bot in a floor-length red kimono, bound by a golden sash, made her way down one of the many corridors of the luxury Yamabuki Hotel. The floor was lit from beneath, a pattern of crystal glass outlined in black. The walls, made of black marble, were decorated with hangings of gold and black motifs: Water. Mountainscapes, and depictions of brave warriors battling creatures of Japanese mythology.

The geisha bot swayed gracefully as she moved, the silk linings of her kimono gliding across the floor like a koi’s tail in the river.  Like the décor, her appearance was meant to allude to the Japan of centuries past … but unlike her android counterparts from Shokai, she was not crafted to look human. Her faceplate was a painted feminine mask: glossy milk white with a perfect circle of red that covered the space between her mid-forehead and lower lip. Thin, black-pink eyebrows were painted at the top of the circle, and a small vertical rectangle of crimson marked the exact center of her mouth. Her hair was black lacquer, fanned out in the back with one section that rose upwards, and two that framed her face. Her eyes were solid black and held no spark of life behind them.

The geisha bot gave a simple bow and politely excused herself before entering the banquet room. Like the bot itself, the wide-open room was meticulously decorated in the style of old Japan. Here, more geisha bots occupied and walked about the room. One standing front and center of the room played the strings of a quiet shamisen, picking out a relaxed, traditional tune. Her sleek plastic fingers never missed a single note as they traveled up and down the neck of the classic instrument. Her head turned this way and that, never uttering a tune herself, but still keeping a watchful eye over her guests. She and the other geisha bots in service, all identical in form, had variations in the red patterns on their masks, but all were clad in black kimonos. This made the one in red stand out even more. She had to.

After all, she was the newest model of the Entertainment Series that was expected to be released in a matter of months.

The executives of Shokai’s Hong Kong branch and prestigious members from CyberLife sat cross-legged on floor mats on either side of a long, low wooden table. They laughed and conversed, eating and expensive cuisine dish with chopsticks as the synthetic servants walked among them, topping up their sake from fine porcelain jugs, and tea bowls from cast-iron kettles. Shokai’s own androids stood on one side of the room while Cyberlife’s, dressed from top to bottom in their sleek white uniform, stood at attention on the other.

The red-clad geisha knelt down behind Dr. Kobayashi, who was far too busy rubbing elbows with CyberLife’s Hardware Engineering manager to notice her. Thin, spindly, and honey-voiced, Kobayashi was the head of Shokai HK’s robotics division, far too preoccupied to even look round as he held up his cup for a refill. He adjusted the sleeves of his silk robe (a mighty expensive gift from his wife’s family) so that the hem sat just a little past his wrist, giving the company sitting across from him just a small glimpse of his new watch. The man secretly smiled on the inside. He was subtle and clever like that. As soon as these people hit foreign soil, it was all a careful play to get them eating out of the palm of his hand.

He kept his attention fixed on the visitors he had worked so very hard to bring here. The geisha sauntered away to the next guest and he took a sip of sake. He smiled lightly, savoring the bitter taste, and continued his conversation.

 “I’ll be honest with you gentlemen, I didn’t arrange this to simply mingle,” he confessed. “I had you brought here to inform you that Shokai Hong Kong is shutting down.”

The man across from him, Richard Speare, was exactly who you thought of when the word ‘Successful American’ came to mind. CalTech graduate. Former Executive member of Apple. Nicely styled hair, perfectly tanned skin, and porcelain white smile.

Now here he was, making deals with the devil.

“What can I say, Ko,” He knocked back his sake like a shot and held his cup out. The Geisha bot beside him carefully poured him a refill. “Your boss put his eggs in the wrong basket. The people want laptops, not Barbie dolls.”

Kobayashi smiled lightly and nodded. Somehow, hearing his own thoughts being validated by his competitor only encouraged him more. He knew what he was doing was the right call.

Richard pointed a finger in his direction, his lips turning up in a smirk. “Which is why I’m glad you and I are doing business. Hiro’s lucky to have a guy like you on his payroll.”

‘Barely,’ he thought to himself. Lately it was starting to feel like the CEO was pushing him further and further out. First it was to Osaka. Then Hong Kong. Termination wasn’t too far behind, he could sense it.

“Hiro is lucky, but he’s also small-minded. What you guys are doing at CyberLife is the future. The true future.” He leaned forward in his seat and stared at the man intently, “Once, your country and mine were healthy competitors, friends and spearheads in commerce.”

“We still are,” the CyberLife employee assured.

Kobayashi shook his head.

“Japan has fallen behind a great deal,” He insisted, “But I want to fix that … I have a proposal.”

He reached into his pocket and slid out a single black SD card. It was extremely fragile-looking, and no bigger than a dime. He handed it over to Richard and watched as the man stuck it into his watch and shut his eyes. Suddenly, the cybernetic attachment built into his ear flashed a pale blue. His eyelids fluttered rapidly before he snapped open his eyes again.

The man’s lips pursed to a thin line, and he swallowed hard.

“That is … a _risky_ play, my friend.”

“Life is a series of risks,” the Doctor remarked, “Will you help me, Richard?”

The man let his head fall forward and he sighed. He lifted it only slightly to look him dead in the eye.

“Does he know?”

“No. No one does.”

“Are you _sure_?”

Kobayashi nodded firmly. The CyberLife employee nodded, an air of uncertainty on his expression.

“… alright,” he said. Kobayashi had to keep from leaping out of his seat. “I’ll get the word out to Detroit. I know a couple guys who can hook you up with what you need.”

“Excellent. Thank you,” The man flashed a grin as bright as the sun and bowed to his friend profusely. Richard only flashed an awkward smile and held out his cup.

“Let’s toast. To a future, better realized.”

The geisha in the red kimono poured more sake into Kobayashi’s cup. The CyberLife Employee gestured at the beverage. The doctor felt something wet on his hand and looked down to see the sake had filled the bowl and was now overflowing, streaming over the sides and spilling on to the lacquered table underneath.

“What are you doing?” the doctor demanded of the artificial geisha. Although it didn’t show outwardly, inward, he was positively fuming. He had come too far to have this all ruined because of some mechanical glitch. His Maintenance Team had assured him all the Androids at the hotel had been in perfect working order.

He watched as the geisha began to blink rapidly, and then its head tilted in his direction. The drink continued to flow.

“ _Omae nanisama?_!” he snapped, aiming a finger at the errant machine. “ _Yamete_!”

The machine ignored him, and Kobayashi finally put his hand over the cup to stop the stream from pouring over. Before he knew it the geisha moved, striking quicker than a viper. Her pale white hand shot out and grabbed at his fingers, bending them all the way back and snapping the bone with a loud crack. The man let out a high-pitched scream as Richard and his fellow employees fell back, and everyone at the table shot up in surprise. Pain shot through him and the doctor desperately tried to pry himself from the geisha’s grasp.

“Let me go!” He cried out, “Let me go! Let me go! Let—"

The geisha suddenly struck him across the head with the sake pot and spun him around. He screamed again.

“Oh my god!” Richard yelled. Some of the banquet guests began to shout and rise to their feet in confused panic.

Pained and half-conscious, Kobayashi felt the geisha bot shift and one cold metal arm wrapped itself around his neck. He gasped for air as his vision swam, hot tears streaming down his face as pain and panic ran through him. He blinked several times, watching in sheer horror as the three other geisha bots took hold of his other CyberLife guests in a similar fashion.

Before he knew it, the room erupted into a mess of screams.

The doors to the banquet suite suddenly crashed open and six strangers in hoodies entered, fanning out with weapons raised in their hands. Before anyone could react, they opened fire without hesitation, gunning down whatever and whoever they could. They mowed down the unmoving Androids first. Blue-liquid burst out of their bodies and splattered across the walls and the tatami floors. The mysterious assassins shifted their assault to the Robotics team both Shokai and CyberLife alike, seemingly at random, but with a surprising, almost inhuman amount of precision.

Despite cowering behind the low table, Richard watched with wide eyes as one of them came up and shot the hardware developer next to him. He jerked as a spray of warm liquid hit his face, his entire body frozen in pure fear.

His eyes flitted up at the gunman, and his heart nearly stopped as he walked away and spared his life.

For a moment, he could have sworn he saw a red LED.

 

Somewhere underneath the hotel, a man stood on the filthy floor, watching the mayhem from behind closed, fluttering eyelids. He needed no screen for this; the audio and video streams both fed into him directly via an elaborate web of cables plugged into the open ports on his neck.

There was no one here with him, no one to hide from in this secluded little nook, but even so, he wore an all-black, asymmetrical garb with a large hood that shadowed his face and concealed his form. He lifted his head slowly, and gave out wordless order through the network:

“ _Hakku o kaishi suru._ ”

In the banquet room, the surviving CyberLife guests whimpered. Their Android companions, although weaponless, were quick to contact the authorities. Each and every one of their LEDs were fluctuating between yellow and red. And although they were nowhere near as panicked as their human creators, the fear was still somewhat evident. The red-clad geisha bot took no notice of any of them except the one in her grip. It leaned forward over Kobayashi, its sleek ceramic face split down the middle and snapping open with a hiss. Tentacle-like cables slunk down out of its metal jaw and lunged into the back of Kobayashi’s neck. The man jerked hard and froze, as if being violently stung or bitten by a venomous creature.  

From below, the stranger made his way up through the hotel, staying completely quiet as he walked over the human bodies shot dead in the halls and Androids destroyed from the crossfire. He entered the elevator with ease and started effortlessly assembling the pistol in his hands. There wasn’t an ounce of fear or anxiety in his movements as he loaded his gun and pulled back the slide.  

**Data hack at 56%...57…58…**

Kobayashi let out a pained gurgle and went limp as the geisha bot’s cables locked into the quick-ports built deep into his spine. His eyes twitched and fluttered shut, as if he were in the middle of a seizure. He could do nothing. He could say nothing as he felt the familiar, invasive pressure of the robot’s neural hack prying his brain open and stripping all his memories bare. He could feel it searching, scrolling through every log, every board meeting, every conversation—scanning faces, copying locations, audio files, blueprints, everything...

If he could scoff, he would. 

So ... this was what it felt like to be hacked.

Suddenly, there was the sound of glass cracking followed a sharp pang. One of the gunmen jerked to the side and collapsed onto the floor. Then another. Bullets began piercing the outside window and hitting solid bodies indoors—killing two of the strange gunmen and destroying one of the geisha bots. The killers spurted blue liquid as they collapsed. The geisha shut down in a messy, jerky heap, its body writhing and sparking, gushing thin streams of whitish liquid silicate.

**Data hack at 60%...62…64…67…**

The geisha holding Kobayashi transformed yet again with a violent jerk. With the loud sounds of metal snapping and breaking, its legs twisted back and folded up around the doctor like a spider grasping its prey. The machine scuttled jerkily across the tatami floor and clambered its way up the wall. It kept the Doctor prisoner as it dragged the two of them up and out of reach in a high corner of the ceiling.

**Data hack at 76%...78…79…**

Then, without warning, the glass entryway wall imploded. A body smashed through it in a running leap, never ceasing to slow down by the flying glass fragments. The man pulled up his mask and scanned the entire area as he entered the room, watching as his world became a red plane with a mix of fine white lines and grid patterns. He hit the floor with a hard thud and rolled, scrambling to his feet as he continued his assault on the unsuspecting enemy. In the moment it took the surviving bodies to react, he acted on a mix of calculated probability and instinct with his weapon, diving and firing, his semiautomatic pistol barking as he took down three more Androids with pinpoint shots to the head or the throat.

**Data hack at 86%...88…99…**

The stranger fired at the spider-like robot in the red kimono. The shots found their mark each time. The stricken bot jerked and let go of Kobayashi. The man fell to the floor, jerking violently with blood dribbling down his nose and eyes. The android collapsed onto its back beside him, its legs crumpled over, fluids pooling around it as its wrecked systems began to shut down.

The stranger said nothing as he lowered his gun and stepped up to it. He looked down and watched it reach out to him with a broken, dangling arm.

“D—n’t. D—nt. Ple—se.” She begged through her broken voice box. She stared up at his eyes in expressionless horror. Two jet black orbs with blazing red dots in the center. “I wa—ant to live.”

The man’s eyes narrowed as he stood there and did nothing. He was studying her, watching her die.

**Data hack at 96%...98…99…**

“I—w—nt—live,” she begged again. “I—w—nt to-o-o-o—”

**Download complete.**

He watched as the metal plates of her face burst open with a screech and he emptied his pistol into the geisha’s head. The mechanical face closed, returning to it’s somewhat-normal state as it shut down completely. He shut his eyes and took a sharp breath through his nose. The scent of blood, oil, metal, fire …

He opened his eyes again and looked over to where CyberLife’s finest and their android companions laid dead. He walked over to the mess of broken bodies and kicked the human ones aside, going straight for the ones dripping bright blue liquid from the gaping bullet holes in their heads and shoulders. He knelt down in front of an AX400 and studied it’s features closely. He had never seen a CyberLife android up close before.

They were actually quite beautiful.

She still had on her human skin and sported a faraway stare on her pretty face. She had dimples in her cheeks and a tiny scar on the bridge of her nose. She looked so eerily human—a perfect balance of perfection and imperfection. He ran his fingers over her delicate chin and swiped the blood away from her nose and lips. As he took great care and observed her features, he realized something.

This was the closest he’d ever been to his family.

When he opened his eyes again, Connor found himself standing in the middle of a beautiful garden. Sleek, modern, and simplistic with stone motifs and lavish-looking trees all working seamlessly with the clear, crystal body of water that cut through it in a perfect circle. The stone pathways looped and wrapped around everywhere, but they all led up to the same place.

The place where _she_ was waiting.

Connor walked along the path, saying nothing as he briefly admired the maple trees and the stone garden placed not too far away. He took notice of the stone carving on his far left, unsure what to make of its design or the elaborate hand-shaped mark in its center…

Instead of pondering on it further (or acting on curiosity like any human would), he followed his orders and made his way up to the courtyard where Amanda was waiting.

She was busy attending to a wall of roses, her back completely facing him as she carefully sprayed each bloom with a water solution to keep them healthy, and looking pretty for longer.

“How are you, Connor?”

“… I’m well, Amanda.” He answered, not quite sure why she would ask him, an android such a question.

“Captain Fowler briefed you on your new mission, correct?”

“Yes. Lieutenant Anderson and I are to accompany Officer Reid and his Android to Tokyo this coming Friday.”

For a good minute, Amanda said nothing in response. Connor waited patiently, regardless, but a part of him couldn’t help but try and log her body language. He couldn’t tell if she was upset or not.

“Rumor is circulating that the birth of RA9 started in Tokyo,” The woman stopped what she was doing and set the bottle down on the small table beside her. She turned to face her agent, her expression eerily stoic. “Are you aware of the Shokai company and how it started?”

Connor’s eyes blinked and twitched as he did a quick search, a pool of information flooding his secondary memory.

“The Shokai company is run by Hiro Matsushima, one of the youngest developers besides Elijah Kamski. He’s the leading competitor in the manufacturing of androids.”

The corner of Amanda’s mouth turned up in what fell short of an actual smile. “… But do you know how it _started_ , Connor?”

The android blinked at her, saying nothing. A look of disapproval flashed across her face and she turned away.

**AMANDA⮟**

She began sauntering her way down the stone path and Connor followed alongside her. He kept his eyes focused on her, taking no time to admire the natural beauty that surrounded them. Amanda stopped from time to time to look at the flowers or the trees, saying nothing for some time.

“… What do you remember about the first in your series, Connor?”

Connor frowned and tilted his head ever so slightly. He was mark 51 of his series. Every time he was tested, decommissioned, and restarted again, he lost a part of his old data. Who knew if he had anything left of his first self.

She stopped walking and turned to face him, an expectant look on her face. He tried accessing that part of his memory, his LED flickering yellow as broken, distorted visions fluttered behind his eyelids.

The audio was broken. The video was a mess. But through the glitchy-graininess he could make out a hand. His hand. He flexed it a few times, and then reached out to something.

Or someone.

The memory glitched and broke, and through the flickering mess he saw two faces smiling at him. One, belonging to Elijah Kamski, the other, he didn’t recognize.

 ** _“—es…,”_** He heard the stranger say, **_“Yes, I th—nk this—ll work.”_**

Connor snapped open his eyes to see Amanda still looking at him. His LED continued to spin solid yellow as he spoke.

“I…I was built here in Detroit,”

“Your first self?” Amanda asked simply.

“…No,” He said, his brow furrowing as he looked over the broken pieces of his memory. “No, he was…somewhere else.” He looked up at his handler, his face etched with something that could be described as ‘worry’. “… Was he born in Tokyo?”

“The first Connor paved the path to greatness, the path which you now find yourself on,” She answered, neglecting to acknowledge his question. “Shokai was once home to Elijah Kamski and helped him get to where he is today. It is now CyberLife’s top competitor, and the hunting ground where several CyberLife workers are being targeted and killed. Your mission is to extract any and all files Shokai has on their Androids, their top projects, and anything relating to the deviancy epidemic.”

Connor stayed rooted to where he was as Amanda started to move forward without him.

“Somewhere in there is the key to where this came from, and how to stop it,” She stopped and turned back around to face him, her stern expression unwavering. “More and more androids show signs of deviancy. There are millions in circulation. If they become unstable like they have in Tokyo, the results will be disastrous.”

She took a step up to him, staring at him like a creator proud of it’s hard work.

“You’re the most advanced prototype CyberLife has ever created. If anyone can figure out what’s happening, it’s _you_.”

Connor nodded firmly, his LED spinning from yellow back to solid blue. “You can count on me, Amanda. I won’t fail you.”


End file.
